How not to have your prize pieces appraised on air

RICHMOND – I was excited last spring when my husband and I won two Antiques Roadshow entry tickets for the event held last weekend in Richmond.

But I quickly learned my knowledge of antiques was a handicap when it comes to appearing on the popular show.

Parking just across the street, we easily wheeled our dolly into the Richmond Convention Center and through the line. We chatted with other attendees, admiring the eclectic items. We would later learn that a bronze sculpture we had received as a gift appraised at $500-$1,000. Meanwhile an inherited sword was a reproduction of little value.

Arriving at one of the tables, we were given secondary tickets (each person is allowed two items). They were marked "watches," "folk art," or some other area of collecting. In all there were 24 options.

We had taken my collection of graniteware toys, a trio of antique miniature chairs, and a red glass bottle. A small, elaborately painted Swedish trunk held our selections. When the ladies at the entrance offered me tickets marked "pottery," "glass," and "furniture," I didn't argue that the trunk might more aptly be considered "folk art." I did question the "pottery" tag.

They insisted the toys were pottery. I insisted they were... well, toys. "How do you know they're toys? Are you sure they aren't salesman's samples?"

"They were sold as toys, in boxes," I replied. "I've had an original box."

They still looked dubious, but reluctantly traded me a "toy" ticket for the "pottery" I had rejected. I joined the "toy" line.

Although the event had been open for only a hour or so, the expert already looked weary. Richmond was the last program of the year; no doubt it's exhausting to dash the hopes of multitudes of people.

When I opened the trunk, his eyes lit up. Grabbing a piece of the tea set, he moved around the table. "Wait here, I'll be back." He skirted the filming area and disappeared in the crowd.

"We don't know anything about these." His comment when he returned surprised me. "You know more than we do."

I couldn't believe anyone who deals with antiques doesn't know about graniteware. Yes, the toys are rare, but they should know they exist. Next, I showed him my chairs. He agreed the ivory one appeared to be Napoleonic, and the French porcelain, ormolu 19th century. He said he had previously seen others like the filigree silver. He offered no value estimates.

I was confused and disappointed. I found my husband still waiting in the glass line and took his place. A very nice lady sat at that table. She thought my odd bottle was probably late 1800s, but advised me to have it authenticated by Colonial Williamsburg experts. She said the value was between $300 and $400, but the estimate would increase should it be older.

The furniture expert agreed that the dated Swedish trunk was Scandinavian. He loved the painting and small size, but opined that people often prefer a flat top (presumably for stacking something atop the piece, but who would scratch or even cover that beautiful artwork?). He offered a conservative value of $1,500.

We were ready to leave.

A couple who works for Antiques Roadshow stopped us to examine the trunk. When I opened it, they were excited to view the toys. The woman said that, despite their travels with the production and all their visits to antiques shops, she had never seen graniteware toys. They insisted we visit the "metals" expert, and she stood nearby while I chatted with a well-known Roadshow personality.

"I don't know anything about them; I've never seen them. You know more than any of us do." I suspected he was one of the people whom the "toy" expert had consulted. He scrolled through graniteware items displayed on his screen as he talked, seeminglyimpatient to be rid of me.

The woman who was so enamored of the trunk and its contents smiled wryly.

"They want to talk to people who don't know what they have," she said.

It made sense actually. That's probably why they ask the questions they do: What did you pay for it? Do you have any idea what it is worth? Can you tell me what you know about it?

It's their show, and they have to be the experts.

Of course, no one knows everything about antiques, and appraisals are dependent not only on training and knowledge, but information that is available in books as well as on the Internet. With auction results also at our fingertips, a little research can answer most of our questions. But there's nothing to replace the thrill of allowing someone else to do your research and learning your yard sale find is worth a fortune, particularly if that information is revealed on TV.

Although we saw some really great things and visited with many interesting people, we left knowing little more than we did when we arrived. It seems our best source for information might just be here at home.

Karen Rogers works as an administrative assistant at The Virginia Gazette.